Nothing At All
by Anda chan
Summary: Roy pursues, Ed runs...or tries to. XD; What you'd call office foreplay in the first part turns slightly more...serious in the second. [Completed as of 4.27.04!]
1. Part I

Disclaimer: I don't own any of the following characters, unfortunately.  Not making any money out of this, it's for my own fangirl enjoyment, yadda yadda, you know the deal. Don't sue me, I'm a poor college student.

Author's Notes: My first try at FMA fanfiction. Roy an' Ed invaded my brain and will not leave. This is the result. More to come. Promise.

**Nothing At All**

            "Come in," was the short, clipped reply that seeped through the wooden door after just the lightest hint of knocking.  Edward immediately peeked his blonde head inside, the usual smug cheerfulness plastered upon his young face.

            "Yo!" he greeted with a mock salute of his gloved metal hand as a booted foot kicked the door shut behind him.  He was met with the same hard look of dark eyes, peering at him almost indifferently from behind wispy black bangs.  A blink later, Ed's previous cheerfulness died with a sigh.  Where was this guy's sense of humor?  Muttering silently to himself in the deep recesses of his head, he shuffled forward, farther into the office only to flop down onto one of the comfortable leather couches that sat in front of the Colonel's desk.

            "Well?" impatience resonated in Colonel Mustang's deep voice, reinforced by the consecutive tapping of his pen upon the stack of papers that sat in front of him.  

            "Hm?" golden eyes turned to him lazily, blinking once, twice.  But at the sight of what he had long ago dubbed "the death glare," Ed chuckled nervously. "Report, right, right!"  He scratched the back of his head.  "You're always so aware of my doings, I thought you didn't need me telling you."  Edward grinned widely, resting his chin upon a gloved hand, which was in turn held up with an elbow that pressed into the leather arm rest of the couch.  He noted that the death glare soon turned to expiration.

            After three years everyone already knew how their relationship worked. More or less. And many wondered just how it was that they had not yet killed one another.  It had not just been once that Lt. Hawkeye had to come in to intervene and, well, save the office from being burnt down.  That night Ed had gone home missing a few centimeters of hair that had been left behind as ashes in his wake.  But no injury had come out of it.  And the office still stood.  Much to everyone's surprise.

            "It is my job to know everything that goes on with the personnel under my jurisdiction," Mustang informed him matter-of-factly, the words coming out from behind gritted teeth in a hiss.

            "Everything?" a golden brow was raised.

            The pen tapped still against the desk.  "What are you getting at, Full Metal?"

            A casual smile; the wave of a hand.  "Nothing, Colonel."

            Silence reigned for a few moments until Edward heard the heavy pen drop upon the pillow of white papers.  Heard the rustling of paper work as a neat stack that had been sitting to the left of the desk was picked up and held between gloved fingers.  "I take it, then, that you have found nothing."

            "No," he half-sighed, half-muttered, still not looking at his superior.

            "And that you have once more destroyed half a city…"

            The young alchemist fidgeted on the black leather cushions of the couch, uncrossing and crossing his legs.  Arms were crossed over his chest.  He felt the intensity of peering eyes gaze at him over the top edge of the typed report Mustang held in those deadly fingers.  

            "Things got complicated…" he mumbled his excuse, feeling the warmth of an undesired blush spread over his cheeks.  Annoyed with the reaction, Edward convinced himself that it was merely hot in the office, despite the fact that he felt the cool breeze of the air conditioner blow above him from the high ceiling.

            "Complicated?" prodded Mustang, allowing the papers to drop back onto his desk.

            "Yes, complicated!" Ed shot back, glaring at the smug bastard sitting comfortably in that oversized high back chair of his.

            "I gave you freedom to _investigate_, not destroy every place you come in contact with."

            Lips parted to speak, but Ed merely seethed, fuming angrily and yet had little place to complain. In fact he couldn't complain, not when he was free to come and go as he pleased, only checking back to let them know of any news along his travels.  He knew very well that it would just take one word out of Mustang's mouth to make him doomed to remain in Central City.  That was the last thing he wanted.  Not when there was still so much to find out.  All this time and still he had accomplished nothing.  Metallic fingers balled into a tight fist over his knee.  In his rage he had not noticed, however, that in the span of his thoughts and lowered gaze, Mustang had risen from his chair, and even had the time to march leisurely around his desk.  It was only when he saw a pair of shinny black boots standing before him; the neat blue fabric of his superior's uniform, that Edward realized that he stood before him.  His head shot back, the small braid whipping against his back.  

            "I believe you agreed to this when you became my dog."  Golden eyes widened at the statement, at the way Mustang merely stood there before him, arms crossed at the wrists behind his back, staring down at him with that intense, piercing dark gaze.

            "I am not your--" a gasp suppressed the remaining words that would have escaped his scowling lips. However, surprise came over him as he felt the soft fabric of gloved fingers wrap around his chin, tilting his head backward and his gaze upward.  As he saw that handsome face lean so close to his own.

            Really now Edward, of all things to be noticing at the moment.  And yet he could not help but trace the chiseled lines with his golden gaze, as he merely sat there, vulnerable although could have easily broken away from the Colonel's grasp; could have easily squared a hit – but that would mar that flawless skin, he caught himself thinking.

            "Yes, you are my dog, whether you like it or not.  And I will not have my men out there destroying half the country."

            Once more a protest did not come to him as Ed opened his mouth to do so, to snap back as he always did. And yet, something stopped him.  The look in those eyes, perhaps, that unlike his tone were not reprimanding.  Perhaps even the crooked grin upon the Colonel's lips.  "I-…"

            Fingers released his chin, only to press lightly to his lips and silence his words.  "The least you could have done was fixed it."

            Had he just heard that correctly?  A golden brow was lifted in silent questioning.  He dared not move his lips against those gloved fingertips that pressed ever-so-lightly, and there remained.  But those fingers did move away seconds later, though the proximity between them did not quite diminish, much on the contrary, he noted, desperately wishing that he could get away with at least taking off his coat.  That damn air conditioner could not possibly be working.  "F-fixed it?" He swallowed the dry lump in his throat and shifted his body slightly.  It was no use, the couch was behind him and he did not want to give Mustang the upper hand – which he already had, regardless – by having to duck around him in order to get away.  However the truth was that he did not _want_ to get away.

            "Yes, fixed it.  It would not hurt your reputation…"

            "Or yours." Edward muttered accusingly, eyes narrowing slightly at the widening grin upon the Colonel's kissable lips.  Had he just thought his lips were kissable?  Well, they certainly were but that was not something he needed to be thinking about right now!  In fact he should probably be going, after all the report was given, or rather the Colonel already knew all that had happened so… yes, he should go get some rest.  Or go to the library! Yes! He needed to look up some things and should really do that now!

            "Going somewhere?"

            Ed froze, having not realized that he had begun to crawl down the length of the couch in a weak attempt to make it toward the door.  Eyes widened, blinked.  He glanced back over his shoulder, chuckling nervously.  "I-I don't want to keep you, certainly you're quite busy and all so I thought I'd go and leave you alone to all that paperwork you probably have to get through before the morning."  He rambled on quickly, perhaps much too quickly.  And yet he hardly cared if Mustang had caught most of it, as long as it got him out of there.

            "How considerate."

            "That's me!" He grinned, slowly slipping off the couch to stand, only to inch backward toward the door that still stood too far away.  For the first time that afternoon, however, Ed was glad he still wore his coat as it did quite a good job of hiding any discomfort he might have been feeling in the lower areas below his slim waist.

            Unfortunately for him, Ed did not notice the amused look that sparked in Mustang's eyes.  He did not realize that between him and the door was a smaller desk Lt. Hawkeye was usually found at.  He did not realize it, that is, until it jammed into his lower back and thus stopped his slow progress toward the door.  He could have released a small 'meep' then but chose the deer stuck in headlights look as his eyes caught the sight of impeccable blue approach him.

            "I do not believe that I have dismissed you, Edward-kun."

            Maybe, just maybe he could get away with destroying this desk and calling it an accident.  On second thought, perhaps it was best not to.  He did not need Lt. Hawkeye aiming a gun at his head for something that he destroyed along with the desk.  Besides, he was not even quite sure why there was this need to run away so badly.  Besides the growing bulge that was beginning to show through his pants.  "M-may I be dismissed then?"  He attempted his best at sarcasm that fell dry upon his lips.

            "No," Mustang countered as he slammed both hands upon the counter top on either side of the young alchemist's sides.  Ed did his best not to jump, not to flinch and surprisingly enough was successful.  A whimper did escape him, however, as he felt the brushing of the heavy fabric of his uniform tap against his legs; felt the warmth of that body nearing his own.  His whimper was cut short moments later, eyes snapping open to stare past the head of neatly placed black hair as his lips were claimed, kissed, ravished.  Short seconds passed between the initial shock and the closing of lids, the touching of light golden lashes upon his cheeks as he felt the instant reaction to return the gesture claiming his body.

            It was a strange sensation.  There had been kisses in the past, meaningless things exchanged between the more daring fans that had made it close enough to steal one or two, but this…this was different. This was real, ardent.  His body felt feverish, shaky - unstable if it were not for the hard wooden surface of the desktop holding him up.  He idly noticed the trajectory of his own hand slipping up Mustang's right arm, gloved fingers coming up to tangle into short black strands at the back of his neck.  It was funny, really:  only seconds earlier he had all intentions of running away, probably to soak himself under a painfully cold shower - and now his resolution had crumbled under that heated touch of the Colonel's lips, of the brush of that tongue.  There was a distinct taste to that kiss, mingled with a trace of coffee that had probably been consumed hours earlier to his arrival.  

            His mind was a blur of feelings and emotions; his body practically hurting with the insane sense of desire that soared between his legs.  A soft groan melted into the kiss, which was broken soon after that.  Ed did not have the courage to open his eyes, to look into those dark ones he knew were peering down at him.  He did not have the courage to do anything but lean against that desk, but keep his fingers attached to that silky hair at the back of Mustang's neck.

            "Edward…" he shuddered at the husky whisper that flooded his mind, the soft breath that tickled his swollen lips.  Courage returned then and golden eyes snapped open.  Suddenly fingers knew what to do, descending down the front of the Colonel's jacket, undoing each annoying clasp that stood in the way, only to be met with the simple white shirt that clung almost artfully to the toned body underneath.  Acting on simple instinct, the pried those buttons open, revealing the expanse of his white chest beneath.  Fingers shivered slightly, even more so as the gloves were pulled from them and tossed onto the desk top.  He watched the shivers prickle over that exposed chest as the cool metal of fingertips graced his flesh.  Edward hesitated, fingers hovering over heated skin as a small, uncertain frown touched his lips.  

            The time he had for hesitation was short, however.  He felt his head being risen by a finger that had slid beneath his chin.  Their gazes met for a short moment before lips collided again in a feverish dance of passion he could not control.  Fingers fell upon that flesh once more, tracing the outlines of toned muscles even as he felt his body being leaned backward over the counter top.  Much to his dismay his hands fell away from that soft flesh, elbows falling upon the wooden surface in order to hold himself up.  His head fell backward, a soft appreciative moan escaping his lips as he felt the tracing of Roy's – it was alright to think of him as such now, right? – own sliding down the length of his neck.  Ed gasped sharply as those wandering, kissing lips brushed the sensitive flesh that connected with his auto-mail.  It tore shivers down his spine and the rush of blood to his groin.  When had his coat been brushed back to bundle around his elbows?, he wondered idly.  Though his attention did not linger on such trivial details regarding the loss of clothing, but on the soft lips on the side of his neck.  They did not linger there too long, however, as their trajectory moved those kisses downward, just as fingers slid upward to push that simple black tank top out of the way.  

            He felt his heavy belt being tugged at, the buckle undone; the button of his pants popping open soon thereafter.  And that was when panic seized him, grasped all those fired nerves with a deadly cold hand.  This…this little fantasy of his was actually happening, he realized in near-horror.  "C-Colonel-" his voice trailed off as those deep, dark eyes were turned to him.  As he met them once more, watched the hunger that mirrored upon their shimmering surface.  As he saw those half-parted lips glistening with the moisture of being recently wet by the pink muscle of his tongue.  Those lips that hovered so closely over his navel, those lips that awaited further instruction just like the fingers that had frozen upon the zipper of his pants.  Those lips that quirked upward ever slightly, bringing a devious glint to those dark eyes.

            "Kinky…" he whispered with a husky chuckle deep within his throat.  

            Kinky? What was kinky?  Edward blinked at him, and arched a brow but then it hit him.  What he had just whimpered out.  Well, just how was he supposed to address him?!  I suppose just 'Roy' would do, perhaps, and yet seemed as if he were stepping out of line.  He blinked once more, then found himself chuckling.  Yea, 'Colonel' in this situation _did_ sound kind of kinky, he admitted silently to himself.  And in this, his momentary anxiety was gone, for the most part.

            And in having no further complaint, he watched as Mustang bowed his head once more.  Ed sighed contently at the silky strands that tickled his abdomen, tight as it was with anticipation, with desire.  He heard the faint descent of the zipper and swallowed dryly.  There was no time to stop him, to react before he felt the intense warm of his member collide with the cool air of the room, only to shortly there after be enveloped in the hot cavern of his mouth.  Lips parted, releasing a cry that had perhaps been much too loud for the time of day and place they were in.  This reminded him that the door was not locked.  And yet he could not bring himself to honestly care about that right now. Not when he was barely able to contain himself. Not when flesh and metal scratched at the surface of the desk, knocking over a couple of folders to the floor. Papers scattered over the wooden blocks.  They would be later blamed on the wind that blew in through the window.

            He wanted it to last and yet felt the convulsions in his abdomen telling him that such a thing would not be possible.  So this was what it was like.  This…sensation of euphoria singing in his head that was thrown back once more as teeth grit painfully against one another, to stifle a cry that had built up in the back of his throat.  Minutes passed in a whirr of emotions, of _feeling_.  "I…I…" he gasped sharply and squirmed, hips shifting upward against that mouth that indulged him, that pleasured him, that swallowed him whole and seemed to beg for more with each stroke of that strong tongue.  Edward could hold on no longer.  His body unaccustomed to such blissful treatment, shuddered pleasantly, twitched almost violently as he gripped onto the edge of the desk to the point that he felt the wood chipping under the pressure of his right hand.  A droplet of red slid down his chin, seeping from a cut upon his bottom lip, which he had bitten into harshly in order to silence himself from emitting a cry that would certainly reveal them both to any passer-bys.  

            The ceiling whirled above him.  The cool air escaping the air ducts felt good against his blushed face.  He dully heard the crash of pens and pencils fall to the floor and roll away from the desk, stopping as they collided either into the wall or a nearby chair.  The ceiling was soon replaced with dark eyes, smirking lips that descended down upon his own.  Edward shivered at the taste that there lingered.  No longer just the aftermath of coffee and the taste that belonged to Roy but also the bitter saltiness he knew belonged to himself.  A bright flush spread over his face at that thought.

            "Nnghn.." Ed mumbled, feeling his body being lifted off the previously neat paperwork that had been left on top of the desk.  His body collided against Mustang's own.  He heard the deep rumble of a chuckle within his chest. He would have raised a hand to slap at his arm if he had the strength, or even control over his limp limbs.  But it was not the case.  Edward merely leaned against him, using his body as support while his own returned to normality, or something close to it.

            "You're glowing…" Mustang pointed out smugly, which received a half-assed glare in return.  "Well, you are," the little smug bastard insisted.  Smug…a bastard, but gods those lips were heaven.

            Gradually clothes were restored, the buckle redone, the coat placed back upon his shoulders. Much to Ed's dismay.  He watched the Colonel silently, allowing himself to be re-dressed without a word of protest.  Golden eyes watched that handsomely carved face, the features that expressed so little and yet so much to those that knew him.  He reached out, warm digits pressing against his bare chest.  "Don-don't you want something..?" he asked shyly.

           Dark eyes were turned to him, which caused those cheeks to flame up once more.  He blinked as Mustang leaned closer, lips brushing his earlobe lightly. A whisper snaked out past those tainted lips to infiltrate the recesses of his mind.  "I still have work to do.  Will call for you before the end of the day."  A kiss touched his jaw-line before he leaned back once more, leaving Ed stunned.  Not to mention rather pleased.  His usual grin touched that young face, but he said not a word and reached out to button up the white shirt and jacket he had undone earlier on, which were now not as neatly pressed as they had once been.  But it was not like anyone would question him, of all people.  And thus he did not give it a second thought as he jumped off the desk, composing himself.  He nodded with his usual mock salute before turning on his heel and this time walking properly around the desk and toward the door.  He did not glance over his shoulder as heavier footsteps moved away from him, as leather creaked and papers were composed upon the Colonel's desk once more.  Edward merely smiled to himself as he opened the door to step out into the hall.

            In that same hall he paused, blinking as he came face to face with both Hughes and Havoc, leaning a little too casually against the wall on either side of the door.  Havoc puffing almost desperately on his cigarette and Hughes glancing around the spots on the ceiling.  Both tried their best not to stare at him as he stepped outside and closed the door.  That was when Edward flushed furiously and walked away rather quickly before any questions were raised.  

            "Edward-kun, you're back." Lt. Hawkeye greeted him cheerfully but then blinked, puzzled as he merely ducked his head and waved briefly at her before rushing on by.  A mere mumbled reply serving as the greeting. For now.  "Odd," he heard her say before ducking into a hall and sprinting away, feeling much like a child that had just stolen from the neighbor's yard, but when in fact his crime had been worse – much worse, he noted with a smug grin.  He was not even sure if it was something to be smug over.  A pause. Yes, yes it was.  He heard the whispering talks of some of the female (and male) staff praising the Colonel and wishing they could grace his sheets.  Granted that he had not quite graced his sheets, per se but the possibility was not to be ruled out just yet.

            Her blonde hair shook as she continued on down the hall, carrying a couple of folders and a mug of steaming coffee toward the office.  Outside, she met Havoc and Hughes, but given that those two never did act their age, she did not question and slipped inside.  "I've brought the files you requested, Colonel."

            "Thank you, Lieutenant." He responded casually, never ceasing his writing, not even to glance up as she dropped the two folders upon the edge of his desk before crossing toward her own.

            She blinked upon coming to face with the scattered papers that had flown to the floor and fallen writing utensils she crouched down to pick up from the floor.  "Did something happen here?"

            "Windows were open," he returned in the same cool composure.  Perhaps too cool.  

            She raised a brow but did not question, returning to her desk.  The chair was pulled out and she sat, reorganizing her paperwork until noting something…strange.  White gloved fingers picked up a simple, thin red band.  She eyed it suspiciously, even more so as a couple of wavy blonde hairs were pulled from it.  "Windows, uh?" She muttered almost inaudibly under her breath.

            Only then did Mustang glance up.  "Did you say something?"  Dark eyes peered at her from behind slightly disheveled bangs, but otherwise collected features.

            "Nothing, Colonel," Riza responded, tucking the suspicious red hair-tie into one of her drawers for safekeeping.  Nothing at all, she mused silently to herself.

----------------

Comments, criticism?  Anything is appreciated, really. And like I said, more will come.  


	2. Part II

Disclaimer: They're still not mine. Don't sue me, all that stuff. Yadda yadda.

Author's Notes: Just keep in mind that I'm not placing this anywhere specific in regard to the story.  Thus it could be happening anywhere, really.  I also don't mention ages, so you can imagine it as you see fit. ^^;

**Nothing at All**

Part II

            "Niisan!" was the last thing Edward heard as he ran, half stumbling out the door.

            "I have to go!" he shouted back, just about missing the doorframe that had so rudely snuck into his way.  The sleep was roughly rubbed from his eyes as he made it quickly down the brightly lit hall.  Perhaps too bright, he noticed, squinting at the overhead lights.  He had never counted in falling asleep, especially not for that long!  Granted he and Al had only just that morning arrived and he always got sleepy after long train rides, but…  Images of that afternoon flooded his mind.  He chuckled nervously to himself, still feeling the light tingle of lips being pressed to his own.  Yea, that could have had something to do with it.  

            As he trotted down the hall, he did not notice the silly grin that had plastered itself upon his face until he caught his reflection in the window.  He noticed something else, too, however.  A blink.  The raise of a golden brow.  He shook his head slightly and watched the last remaining traces of a braid come undone around his shoulders.  A quick look around revealed no traces of the tie that had mysteriously disappeared.  Grumbling under his breath, he searched his pockets only to come away with a few pieces of black lint…  There was little time to muse on the lost tie, however, as a glimpse of turning pointers of a clock caught his attention.  It was now well past six, he did not have the luxury of standing around there, when more important…matters…awaited him.  Thus without further ado, Edward took to the waning sunlight only to hurry toward the library – the only place everyone knew to go in order to find him.

*   *   *

            Edward was annoyed. He sat at one of the dark wooden tables, looking worn and utterly bored.  Lashes hung halfway over golden eyes, near bloodshot from staring at words for too long without quite reading them. His mind was not on the books that sat sprawled before him.  It was on other matters of sprawling…  In fact those hard cover bounds started to look like damn good pillows, he mused. Not like it would be the first time that they were used as such. Or…the second, really.  He even glanced over at the coat that hung from the back of the chair in front of him, but immediately decided it was too far to make a grab for it.

            His stomach growled and Ed hung his head. In his hurry he had forgotten to stop by the cafeteria and snatch something to munch on.  It had done him no good.  In the time he'd been waiting, a whole seven course meal could have been easily devoured.

            The clock struck seven.  His head dropped with a light thud upon the stark white pages.

            "Please refrain from destroying library property."

            The chair he sat in offered little balance as Ed jumped at the sound of that familiar voice. Eyes widened as his head shot up – as soon as balance was regained, that is.  "C-Colonel!"

            If anything, Roy Mustang looked amused.  The bastard.  Ed tried to glare, but upon meeting those dark eyes, he found himself squirming in his seat, glancing back down at the open pages in front of him, idly playing with the hem of his vest for the sake of having something to do.

            From behind his back, held delicately between white gloved fingers appeared a hanging paper bag, which was then set on the table in front of Edward's questioning gaze.

            "Lt. Hawkeye insisted you have some dinner," the Colonel explained in his usual, quiet tone.  "You're no good to me if you're weak…" he added shortly there after, which caused another damnable blush to creep over the young alchemist's features.

            With a mumble that just barely resembled a thank you, Edward reached out, prying the bag open to peek inside, the smell of food instantly assaulting his nostrils.  He did not have the chance to get a glimpse of what lay within, when the Colonel's shadow was cast upon him.  He glanced up meekly.

            "Can't let you eat in here."

            "Then why did you bring it to me in here?!" Edward nearly flailed off his seat, the outburst soon coming to a screeching halt as he caught the glint in Mustang's dark eyes.  Everyone knew such a glint never brought good news.  On most occasions, that is.

            "Come," Mustang straightened up, his voice once more returning to the cool commanding tone he was known for.  "I'll treat you to something other than mess hall food."

           "What…" Ed had started to ask, and yet no further explanation was given. The little bastard was already walking away, he watched through narrowed eyes, merely leaving him behind to watch, stunned and stupefied by the meaning of those words.  He quickly gathered himself up, however and bolted out of his seat, just having enough coordination to grab his coat off the back of the chair before chasing after him with as little noise as possible.  "Wait up, goddamnit!"

            "I _am_ waiting," his march through the library continued.  "It is not my fault that your legs have to run in order to keep up with me…"

            Rage bubbled, fingers tightened into fists and his hair stood near-on end.  "Are you calling me short?!"

            "Well," Mustang paused in his tracks and glanced down at the twitching chibi.  A sly grin touched his lips.  "Yes."

            An outburst would have come from him then if it were not for the glare of one of the library staff. "Keep it down, please, Edward-kun!" The hissed whisper was his warning.  He had no choice but to glare at the back of the Colonel, once more leaving him behind to watch the way his uniform flapped lightly against his legs with each step.  Just why the hell was he even noticing such a thing?!  With an enraged breath, he hurried on.

*   *   *

            This was not exactly what he had expected. Granted that Mustang had promised dinner outside of the mundane mess hall, but at least he had thought they would have gone somewhere…somewhere different from the dimly lit Inn he currently found himself in.  It seemed like a decent enough place, the smells migrating out of the kitchen had been enough to keep him there long enough actually taste the meal that was being offered.  The interesting thing, however, was that it appeared as if the Colonel was no stranger to the establishment.  Edward had not yet come to the conclusion as to if that were a good sign or not.

            He could feel the dark cloud over his head growing by the moment with each word that came out of the serving girl's mouth.  Never in his life had he heard such obvious flirting, nor seen it before his eyes. 'It is an _honor_ to serve you once again, Colonel.'  Yea yea, now get moving, there are other patrons waiting.  Ed glared, busying himself with stuffing his mouth in order to keep himself silent. It was an effective method. His stomach, too, thanked him for it.  An undignified snort escaped him, however, when the girl finally wandered off, glimpsing ever so often over her shoulder to sneak a peek at Mustang, who merely sat there.  Unfortunately he did not just sit there, Ed noticed much to his discomfort.  The little bastard was smirking from behind the rim of his glass.  Instantly, he mentally kicked himself for being so obvious in his antagonism toward the girl.  It was as if he were acting like a jealous girlfriend.

            The thought made him cough, near choke on the food that had decided to take the wrong tube toward his stomach.  Jealous girlfriend was the _last_ thing he was or would _ever_ be!!  

            It wasn't even as if there was anything to be jealous of, anyway.  The Colonel's reputation was amply known throughout the military.  The women both adored him and dreaded the moment he gained enough authority to make them wear mini skirts.  And if it weren't for their little rendezvous earlier in the office, Edward would have thought that those eyes only sought in one direction.  Obviously it was not so. Not when those eyes were piercing down at him, trying to see through the thin layer of skin and right into his mind. Damnit, he hated it when someone did that. He hated it even more when it was that little smug bastard doing so.

            "Something wrong?"

            A hand was waved franticly. His head soon joined in as he attempted to clear his throat and regain the important element of oxygen to pass through.  "Nono!"  He coughed quietly, gradually regaining control of essential breathing.

            "I wouldn't want you dying while I'm watching over you," Mustang explained with a hint of a smirk tugging at the corner of his moistened lips.  "That would be highly inconvenient."  

            "Yes, after all, it could cost you your promotion," Edward muttered deadpan.

            "Among other things."  He waved his hand to dismiss the topic nonchalantly, and picked at a piece of buttered bread.

            Idle talk passed between them.  Talk that did not go on the official report of what happened during his travels.  Talk that had Edward going on for minutes at a time, leaving Mustang looking at him from across the table, his finely chiseled chin rested lightly upon the back of his hand.  At times Edward would catch himself, blink and shut up. Only to have the Colonel smirk and shake his head, urging him to go on.  Once when the juice he had ordered came to and end, he even got away from stealing some of the red wine Mustang was helping himself to. It had either gone unnoticed or he cared little for drinking age restrictions.  Come to think of it, the Colonel certainly could not care for age restrictions…  This was not something he had snuck into the conversation, though.  It would not go well for his part. Besides he had little reason of complaint.

            He specially had no reason to complaint when his head felt more intoxicated than he had expected.  There was definitely no reason of complaint when he felt his body being ushered, half carried out of the pouring rain the heavy rain clouds had brought into the night and into someplace warm, dry.  Ed had no time, nor sense, to question just where they were going in the middle of the night, in the pouring rain that had caught them halfway to their destination.  He merely walked along, supported by Roy's strong arm.  And yet, amusingly enough, his senses came back as he felt the softness of what could have only been a pillow support his fuzzy head.  His clothes felt cold and yet he was incredibly comfortable. Too comfortable to be his own bed.  Eyes snapped open, and he sat up suddenly, which brought a momentary strike of dizziness to his buzzed head.  

            Edward groaned and brought a hand to his forehead.  Just as he did so, he caught the sight of a turned back – elegantly muscled, bare and slightly damp, extending downward to disappear behind the white trim of the Colonel's uniform.  What he had not noticed unfortunately, was that right in front of them was a mirror; a mirror Mustang was glancing into and seeing him perfectly, sitting on his bed staring at the expanse of lightly tanned smooth skin he just wanted to get his hands on.

            "For a moment there, I thought you had passed out."  The silence was broken with a soft utter of words as that half bare body turned to face him.  Edward noted the shirt and jacket had been set over the back of a chair to dry.  Noted even more so that earlier he had never managed to get such a wonderful view.  He silently thanked whatever gods had decided to make it rain that night.  

            "N-no…I'm fine." He answered, mildly flustered.  Fingers scratched at the back of his head nervously, shaking droplets of cold water from loose wavy strands.

            "Maybe next time you won't drink so much of my wine."

            A quiet chuckle.

            "Take off your clothes."

            "What?!" He flushed, staring at the Colonel, wide eyed. He had not just heard that right. Of course not.  That was the one thing he would not have said.  Hell at least, make it a bit more seductive and offer to take them off himself…

            "You're getting the bed wet…"

            Edward blinked, hearing the breaks on his imaginative mind screeching to a halt.  "Oh… right. Right!"  Of course, what else had he meant?  The precious bed could not get wet, after all. Not that it wasn't already, since he had been laying in it for at least a few good minutes.  Regretfully having missed the descent of that damp white shirt slide down from gracefully muscled shoulders to be flung over the back of a chair…  He sighed wistfully and tugged off his coat, the thought that he had nothing else available to drape himself in, had not yet occurred to him.  

            Hell, he should not even be sitting there, listening to those orders that were leading his perverse teenaged mind places he should not be visiting.  Sure it was pouring out there, but it was not like it would kill him.  What he should be doing was going back to his own bed, though smaller and not as comfortable, was still his own.  His tank top came off and he glanced up in time to watch the soft cottony white of a shirt fall right over his head.  He pulled it off with a mutter, but thanked him nevertheless as he tugged on the over sized article of clothing.  So the intention had not been to rape him, after all – not that one could rape the willing…  

            He watched as his clothes be carried into the private bathroom accessed through the small door a few feet away.  Ed then took the opportunity to slide off the bed, socked feet touching the hard wood floors.  Fingers, amply covered by the long sleeves worked at tugging the damp pants off, which proved to be more of a challenge than he had imagined.  He blamed it on the long sleeves, though secretly knew there were other reasons he would not admit to. Yet.  At least the white material was long enough to cover him practically to the knees.

            "Mind if I use your phone?" Golden eyes already glanced about for any sight of it.

            "Out in the hall, first door to your left."

            A nod that went unseen was his response as he shuffled out of the bedroom, trying to locate the telephone without causing any unwanted disaster and running the risk of setting himself on fire.  Once the device was properly found, he hastily dialed his own dorm number, waiting for his brother's sleepy reply, which eventually came after a few rings.

            "Hi, it's m-"

            "Where are you?!"

            Edward cringed, pulling the receiver away form his ear until silence returned.  "I'm fine and will be there in the morning."

            "Morning? You sure everything's alright? You sound…like you're hiding something…"

            How was he able to tell such things so easily?!  "Not hiding anything, promise!! Everything's alright!! I'll see you tomorrow!" And without another word, he hung up, breathing heavily, staring at the phone as if it had any fault in his younger brother's all too sharp intuition.  

            Not knowing what he was getting himself into, he shuffled back into the bedroom.  Indeed, he had no idea of what he was getting himself into.  Besides, wasn't this one of the many unwritten rules of the military?  Sleeping with the superior officers might be looked upon as an attempt to get ahead.  Not that it hardly applied to them.  Mustang was the one seeking to get ahead; Ed merely wanted to be left alone to his own doings.  

            It was with these thoughts musing through his mind that he slipped back inside the room and immediately glanced around for any sight of his host.  Though he did not have to look for too long to find Roy sprawled comfortably across the mattress, one arm folded beneath his head, dark pensive eyes staring at the rain drops that beat against the window.  

            "Everything alright?" He had asked, not oblivious to he added presence in the room.

            Edward nodded, then corrected himself with a quiet "mhm," as he padded forward.

            Silence reigned for a few moments.  He was unsure of what to do, almost afraid to break the soft mantle of silence that had set down over them.  He did not have to be the one to break it, thankfully.  He watched the Colonel's head turn toward him, damp strands falling over his eyes with such a touch of natural seduction he could not help but notice.  The way those strands fell around his face, sliding across his forehead, grazing the view of those dark eyes, it all looked almost intentional and yet he knew it was foolish to think so.  But it was such a perfect picture…  He watched those soft lips quirk into a small, devious smile and arced a golden brow in question.

            "You're swimming in that shirt…" Roy whispered with such a tone of sultry huskiness, that any hint of an insult did not even sink in until seconds later than usual.

            And yet Edward could not bring himself to glare like he truly meant it.  Besides it was true, he _was_ swimming in it, he noticed much to his own dismay.  "You didn't have to point that out." He grumbled, tugging up the sleeves so that they appeared slightly more presentable.

            "Perhaps you need some help finding your way out of it…"  

            The hand that rested against the mattress at his side was lifted, motioning him over without another word.  Instant gratification was bestowed upon him as Ed slipped forward, to climb onto the bed and crawl toward him, kneeling then once the distance that had previously separated them was cut.  That hand ascended further, fingers sliding lightly over the buttons he knew so well.  There was a lump lodged in his throat, which Ed attempted to swallow away without much success.  Light shivers raced down his spine at the taunting touch that refused to truly touch him.  He felt like his head would explode if this were to go on like this.  Earlier he had done nothing but run away, or attempted to.  Now he would do no such thing. In fact… His resolve shut down upon him.  He looked down at the hand that was all too slowly undoing the buttons of that white shirt.  Taking matters into his own hands, Ed slid forward, a warm knee rose only to fall once more once both rested on either side of Mustang's waist.

            He watched with pleasure as a mild, stifled look of surprise crossed the Colonel's handsome features.  Enough games. After all he had made it this far.  Edward did not help him in the undoing of buttons. He was preoccupied with more important matters as palms fell to either side of his head…allowing his body to lower itself down, feeling the warmth that radiated from Roy's body as lips parted slightly just as they claimed the kiss he had longed to taste since the moment he had left the office that afternoon.

            It took a moment to get past the shock, he assumed, but soon enough the kiss was being returned, fingers warm with having been used as a pillow slipped up over his cheek, gracing his face, slipping back to twist into wavy damp strands of hair. He felt himself being tugged down into the kiss that was immediately deepened, enhanced with a hunger neither could explain but both felt piercingly strong.  

            Minutes passed in this madness of battling lips and tongues, of clothes being practically ripped off and tossed aside, leaving behind naked flesh and scattered covers.  Somehow he had ended up on his back pinned between the comfort of the mattress and the heat of that strong body against his own.  A soft groan escaped kiss-bruised lips, head tilting slightly, which begged for the touch of those lips, soft, scalding against his throat, teeth nipping lightly, sparking nerves to life, making him feel things he had never thought possible.  Though images jolted in and out of his mind in a blur, he knew even through the near-animalistic passion, their bodies moved slowly, touches and kisses falling with deadly precision.  It was when, with light kisses to his shoulder and teasing nips to his earlobe as his body was being coaxed into turning, rolling onto his stomach that he began to doubt if he would really make it back that morning.

            It hurt, sure, but he had felt greater pain.  Pain that had meant to truly hurt him, other that was inevitable. And yet this was different, he noticed as teeth bit into his lower lip and his head buried into the pillow, that the touch of those fingers brought affection.  A whimper escaped him and immediately he was thankful for the pillow that muffled it for the most part.  Sharp gasps escaping him once his body adjusted to the intrusion, hot – scalding. And yet everything melted away as after a few more moments of that burning pain, white flashed behind his eyes.  Edward cried out sharply, curling his fingers into the dark sheets beneath him and silently begging for more, of whatever that had been. He was not disappointed as with nearly every thrust that spot was successfully brushed against and thus brought shivers to every living nerve in his body.  The brush of warm lips against his shoulder did nothing but further arouse him.  The brush of fingers soothed him as they traced the skin up and down along his sides.

            He idly realized that he had uttered Roy's name, caring not for formalities. What kind would there be in a situation such as this?  He idly remembered feeling the hot stain of tears in the corner of his eyes, whimpering in soft tones, wishing this would not end and yet…it did.  Much to his later dismay as at the current moment his mind was otherwise occupied with an intensely comfortable…blankness.  Ed cried out, his dull senses telling him that he was not the only one.  Though his had come much first.  He had heard the soft, pleasing groan escaping his lover's? lips moments there after.  Felt the scalding heat of his body pressed to his back. Felt the comfort it brought in his state of pleasant numbness.  

            No words were uttered. No false promises or declarations of undying love.  It did not matter as he felt that body slide away only to lie beside him, only to allow the sliding of arms around his own.  Little else mattered, in fact, from then on when Edward found that embrace being directed toward him.  Little else toyed with his mind but the fact that behind safely closed doors this was all he wanted. All he really needed.  None of it had ever been admitted and yet…it was mutually okay.

            More than okay, he thought silently to himself, watching the rain beat against the window before lids fell the rest of the way over his glazed eyes.

*   *   *

            It was a sleep deprived Ed that shuffled back toward the dorm area.  All cheerful greetings one normally gets in the morning, especially when it's quite past ten, were answered with a weak wave of his hand.  The sun beating down against his eyes only made him want to shut them further…perhaps he could steal a quick nap without being noticed.  As his mind idly wondered just how the Colonel had managed to get up at the crack of dawn with enough coherency to come in on time, Edward slipped into the room he shared with Alphonse.  He had not even bothered to check if his younger brother was present, just let the door shut and flopped face first onto his bed.

            Silence.

            Good, he was alone, after all. Now he would catch an hour or two of sleep before showing his sleep deprived face in public.  

            "And where have you~ been all this time?"

            Golden eyes snapped open. Ed practically jumped off the bed, half tumbling off the small mattress. "Al!"  He gasped, blinking at suit of armor, from behind which he could practically see Al smiling.  "I-I-..out?"

            He scrambled backward to press against the wall, looking up as Al approached him, curiously – much too curious for Ed's own good.  "Out doing what~, Niisan?"  He near-sang.

            "Uh…research. Was…was looking something up and fell asleep. T-that's why I didn't come earlier." He stammered over his words, attempting to hide the flush that was surely spreading over his cheeks.  

            "Mm~" Al peered closer, obviously not quite believing his chopped up bad excuse.  "Well, either way you can't sleep now?"

            "What, why not?!"

            "The Colonel wants to see you."  There was a smirk to that tone, Ed noticed much to his dismay.  Or perhaps he was just imagining things, being paranoid. After all it wouldn't be known so quickly, right?  He caught himself zoning off in his own paranoid thoughts and shook his head to snap out of it.

            "N-now?"

            "Mhm~"

            Muttering quietly under his breath, he slid out of bed, heavily touching the floor before heading off, practically dreading the moment he stepped into that office.  It was one thing to see him behind closed doors…another in public, where he was expected to act as he normally would, where he knew Mustang would do so without a problem. It was his job, after all.  

*   *   *

            "Good morning, Edward-kun," Lt. Hawkeye greeted him with a small smile.  A smile that grew ever slightly as he found himself unable to look at her desk.  "I believe this is yours…"

            "Hm?"  He looked then, to her and not the expanse of smooth wooden surface where papers were neatly stacked.  Eyes widened ever slightly at the innocent-looking red hair tie she held between gloved fingers.  It stood out like such a bright, incriminating mark against that white fabric that surrounded her fingers.  He pulled a chuckle from his throat, padding over to take it from her.  "Thanks."  So that's where the damn thing had gone.  He paled ever slightly… how would he explain it being left behind on _her_ desk, however?

            And yet she merely nodded and returned to her work.  No further questioning, then.  He was off the hook.  He hoped.  Meanwhile his attention was directed to the Colonel who sat at his desk, looking over something before glancing up to him, flashing an impatient, expectant look.  Edward immediately approached.  "You wanted to see me?"

            "Yesterday I came across something that might interest you," he said, holding out what Edward immediately recognized as an assignment folder.  "It's a small town to the West, small enough that rumors spread quickly."  

            "Rumors… you mean-?"

            A silent nod.  "Do what you must to leave the place intact, however?"

            Edward flashed him a small, uneasy smile. "I'll see what I can do."  His eyes slid down toward the folder he held a little shakily.  An assignment, already, so soon.  But this is what he had wanted, was it not?  Yes…yes, of course. He had his mission, his promise to keep to his brother.  

            "You may leave as soon as you're ready."

            He nodded wordlessly and turned, stepping out of the office with that folder still held tightly between his fingers.  He told himself once more that this is what they were here for. At least what he was here for.  A dog of the military and all, as he preferred to put it, in such wonderfully complimenting terms.  

            This _was_ the reason he was here!  Why even have mixed feelings about it?  Foolish, he thought with a shake of his head.  Edward hurried back into the dorms, bursting through the door with the usual excited outburst that usually came whenever they got a new direction to follow.

            "Al, pack up! We're leaving!"

            "What?" Mild surprise, only to be expected.

            Edward grinned widely and waved the folder, tossing it onto his bed as his suitcase was pulled out from under it. His things had not even been taken out, not most of them at least.  Through his excitement he did not notice the way his brother looked at him. Through the ramble of words he dictated, having read a few pages of the assignment on his way over, he did not see the look of worry that was being flashed toward him.  Not that he would have paid much attention to it in he first place. This was more important, after all.

            "Ready?"

           "..un.." was Al's quiet response.  Not an unusual one, however and thus they were off without any further questioning.

*   *   *

            The rolling thunder of metal tracks was a common companion by now.  The train had practically become a kind of mobile home of sorts.  Edward watched the landscape change, watched his reflection upon the slightly dusty glass.  The car was quiet, holding just a few other passengers besides the two of them. Al sat before him, just as quiet, though he could feel his brother's worried gaze upon him.  There had been no questions about the previous night, no comments about their destination after the few that had been asked had been barely acknowledged.  His mind was elsewhere at the moment, his eyes watching the speeding landscape without even truly seeing it.

            His mind was on the soft, seductive words that had been uttered the previous night; on the light trace of lips over smooth, warm skin and hard, cool metal.  No one had ever treated that…weapon of his in such a way.  No one had treated it as if it just was not there, as if there was no difference.  As if nothing had ever happened.  He remembered the taste of those lips, the soft sounds of pleasure that escaped them; the comfortable silence that had followed, the simple fact that he had just been…held, comforted without the slightest hint of a word.  It had made him feel secure for the first time in years.  It had allowed him to let go of the constant check he had over himself, the constant need to be the stronger one, the one in charge of himself, of the mission they had cut out for themselves.  It…gave him a moment's freedom of just existing without any judgment.

            He had not wanted this attachment, though, not this way. Not when there would be no way for it to become something more – not when he spent his time on the road from place to place in search of the one thing that would right all the wrongs they had committed years earlier.  Suddenly feeling cold, he pulled his coat tighter around his shoulders, crossing his arms over his chest so that the warm material was pressed closely to him.  

            "Are you alright?"

            Edward glanced up, surprised by the sudden shattering of silence that derailed his thoughts.  It was then that he had realized that he had been frowning – a frown that was soon turned upside down into a weak, though reassuring smile.  "Yea," he told his brother with a nod.  "Think I'll take a nap, though. Wake me when we get to the station, ne?"

            "Sure…" 

            He did his best to ignore the quiet tone that word had carried, recognizing it all too well.  Edward spread out over the bench, his small body curling comfortably in the limited space and tucking one arm beneath his head to serve as a makeshift pillow for the time being.  He watched the floorboards for a few moments before allowing golden lashes to sink down and touch his cheeks, thus shutting away the silence of the car, the thunderous rolling of the tracks, the sunlight that filtered through the windows.  And yet…the one thing he could not shut away was the soft sound of raindrops beating against the window.

*   *   *

            "That is all, Lieutenant. I'll finish it up, you're free to go." Colonel Mustang thus quietly dismissed Lt. Hawkeye, who looked at him a moment longer.

            "Are you sure you'll be alright?" She insisted lightly, though gathered her things upon her desk.

            "Yes, Lieutenant."  His tone grew sharp and in that instant he knew that he had won the solitude he so desired that evening.

            "Goodnight, Colonel," she told him quietly before letting the door shut behind her.  He was then left alone with the waning sunlight outside the large windows.  Left with his thoughts and the paperwork that would not get finished that night.  

            It was only then that Roy glanced up, letting his pen drop upon the dark mahogany tabletop.  He leaned back in his chair, releasing a deep breath.  The gloves were tugged from his fingers and set neatly over the side of the desk.  His uniform jacket was loosened, followed by the collar of the white shirt underneath.  Dark eyes caught the sight of the short martini glass he had asked Hawkeye to fetch him earlier.  It sat there untouched, undisturbed and partly diluted by the ice cubes that gradually melted into the stinging alcohol.  Fingers reached out, wrapping around the glass that was much too cool to the touch.  He shook it slightly, watching the small lemon peel dance with the movement; watched its bright yellow color stand out against the coppery shade of the liquid.

            The cool rim of the glass was brought to his lips, eyes drifting shut as he felt the sting of the alcohol grace his tongue, burn along his throat.  He allowed it to burn, basked in the feel of it as he peered down at his distorted reflection upon the surface of the drink.  When that sting receded, it left behind a strange sort of bitter sweetness.  Nothing compared to the sweetness of a kiss that had surprised him ever-so-pleasantly that night.  There was more pleasure in that passionate, yet slightly shy touch; the look of searching though wounded eyes.

            Mustang leaned back once more, allowing his head to rest back against the cool leather of the high backed chair.  Dark eyes, tired, slightly red from a day spent behind his desk, ascended to the ceiling.

            "Return safely, Edward…" he whispered to the otherwise silent room.  Only the clinking ice cubes in the glass answered him.

-----------------------------

Now this was fun to write!  Not to mention the quickest I've ever managed a long project like this. The muses were great. Hehe.  Thanks everyone for your comments to the previous part, also. ^^  Now if you're wondering about a sequel…it's possible, but nothing has been planned just yet.


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